


Recovering

by Hidinginabook



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Drinking, Eventual Enjolras/Grantaire, Injured Enjolras, M/M, Not Beta Read, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-10 01:18:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hidinginabook/pseuds/Hidinginabook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is injured in a car accident and is now recovering in hospital, whilst doing so, Grantaire is trying to come to terms with how he feels for his Apollo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry. I obviously don't own Les Miserables. Constructive criticism welcome, thanks for reading, and sorry in advance for any mistakes.

He looks tired, and broken. He's normally pale, but now it just looks like the colour has been taken out of him, a contrast to the brilliant red of his blood, which coated him mere hours ago.

"Look at you, I guess even marble breaks after a hit like that." That made him smile a bit. "I am flesh and blood just like you my friend, no matter how much you seem to disagree," he's right, but then again he always is. I shake my head, he'll always be perfection to me. An angel, mistakenly placed on Earth. My Apollo, lost from heaven. I was scared to get too close to him, in this state he looked fragile, like China. Beautiful, but broken at the slightest movement. I was treating him warily, like a frightened animal. As if he could attack at any moment. But he would never do that. He said it himself, I am his friend.

A friend. Just a friend. I guess I'm lucky to be considered even that. If I cared for him a little less, maybe I could cope with such a dismissal of my love. But I couldn't. He is too grand to not have my full attention, all my desire. I bet he doesn't even notice. It wouldn't surprise me. He's not the most observant when it comes to emotions. If there was a slight change in the way the poor were treated, he would be well aware. But, if someone was crying due to heartbreak, he probably wouldn't notice. Unless of course, they were distracting him from his work in any way. Heaven forbid that he is distracted from planning a better future for the world by somebody's feelings. That is why he notices me. Not because of my obvious heartbreak, but because I distract him from the cause. I irritate him. He shouts at me and curses me, however nothing could hurt as much as his ignorance of my feelings, so I go on. It gives me his attention, even if it is only for a short while.

In my daydream, it takes me a while to realize he's still here. 

"Hello is anyone home?" He taps me lightly on the head as if he's knocking. 

"Sorry, what was that?" I apologize and get an annoyed look in return. 

"Oh, I'm sorry am I boring you? I can tell you're aren't bothered, as you can see I'm fine, so you can leave now without feeling bad that you haven't pretended to show an interest," no matter what state he's in, his sarcasm never falters. I'm positive he'll be sarcastic up until his dying breath (and at this point I'm positive any one of these could be). I smile at him apologetically. 

"Sorry I'm a bit out of it. It was a bit of a surprise to get a call at three am on a Saturday morning from Combeferre telling me you're in hospital and to come quickly," it's a poor excuse and he knows it, but, thankfully, he also seems to ignore it. 

"Well, it wasn't exactly what I planned either to be perfectly honest. This isn't my ideal way to spend the day. I have planning to do and that speech to write and I still haven't finished my essay for -" 

"Enjolras! Look, stop worrying about all of that. I will bet that this is the first break you've had in a while, so relax. I'm sure the world will carry on functioning in it's imperfect way until you are well and ready to fix it again." This is meant to make him smile again. His smile lights up a room like the sun, it makes you want to forget about the world and smile with him. He doesn't smile enough.

He doesn't smile. Instead he looks at me, for once his eyes are filled with an emotion that seems unfamiliar in his startlingly blue eyes. 

"What if I don't get better though? They said this might be worse than they thought. 'Taire this could be it for me. All that planning for nothing. Everything I've ever done, what will that matter. I'm dying. They've as good as told me. Trying to keep my hopes up. Did you not notice the pity in their eyes and the fear written across Joly and Combeferre's faces. I'm not going to make it." Despite him trying to remain calm, his voice wavers, giving away his own fear.

I didn't know what to say. This was Enjolras. He was the leader. He was the one who spoke what everyone was already thinking. He was the one who could change the world with his speeches. Not me. I'm just Grantaire. I sit at the back of the Musain every so often just to listen to something I don't believe in because of a hopeless crush. I couldn't comfort Enjolras, it just wasn't right.

Words had never come easy to me, nothing but drink ever did, and this wasn't an exception. I opened my mouth to try and make the words come out, to try and say something to comfort him, or to at the very least break the silence. I didn't like the quiet never had, it always reminded me of the calm that you get before a storm. That moment where you think nothing can go wrong, then it all goes to pieces. I closed my mouth again, Enjolras had been looking at me, expecting me to at least say something. It was fair enough, I had an opinion on most things he said and did (normally the opposite) why shouldn't I now. But I couldn't. I couldn't say anything. The one time my friend needs me and I can't help, no wonder he doesn't like me. I turn away from him, I don't want to see him disappointed at me for not being able to help him, for not having the courage to face up to reality. Reality, what a waste of time, who needs reality when there is the world of drink to submit and fall into.

"'Taire are you alright? 'Taire come on it can't be that bad. We all knew this was going to happen one day. Maybe I'm not dying in front of a free world or at least in the process of creating one, but there's not a lot we can do about it." His ramblings once again interrupt my thoughts. I feel bad then, because not only does it seem like I keep ignoring him in favour of my own company, but he is comforting me. He is nearly on his deathbed, and he is comforting me. 

"You are not going to die here, you can't" the statement bursts out of me before I can stop it, and that's what it is, a statement, a fact, true. Enjolras can't die here. He has to change the world. He is the unstoppable force that will fight for freedom and justice until the very end. He can't die in a hospital, it's not right. Enjolras smiles at me sadly. 

"I'm sorry 'Taire, I can't say it's how I planned my life to go, but then again my plans aren't fully foolproof, as you never hesitate to remind me," his weak attempt at humour nearly makes me smile. Nearly. Instead I look at him and try to convey all my feelings through my eyes. I never had been good at saying how I really feel, and I doubted that Enjolras would approve of some Dutch courage.

I saw him yawning, and realized that the dark smudges under his eyes probably weren't just from the accident. "Hey look, I'm gonna go now. You need some rest " and I need a drink. 

"Bored of me already 'Taire?" 

"No," suddenly I get defensive, " I just think you need to rest, if you want to recover quickly." 

"I didn't know you cared," he said, I don't think he realized how wrong he was. 

"You're my friend," lies, he's so much more, "of course I care, why would you think I wouldn't?" 

"Relax, relax. I was joking 'Taire, calm down." 

"Sorry," I mumble and look at him. He does look tired. "Anyway you need to rest, so I will leave you to it. Don't miss me too much I'll be back to see you tomorrow." He laughs at that, I can count my visit as a success now. Then suddenly he frowns. 

"Please don't do anything stupid tonight 'Taire, I know how you drink, but there's already one of us in the hospital, and I doubt Joly could cope with both of us ill. So please, just for as long as I'm here, could you try to remain sober?" He looks at me expectantly and I sigh. He knows, knows that all I want to do I is drink tonight away. I agree, but I don't look him in the eye. I then say my goodbyes with another promise of how I would visit again tomorrow. And as I left, I was debating how upset he would be if I broke the first of my two promises.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as I got in, everything suddenly became too much to handle. I promised him, and again I've failed. I'm not good enough for him, not worth his concern. He deserves someone better. The voices in my head louder than ever now. You should have been there, you should have helped him. Everything I don't need to hear. So, I drown it out.

If I think about it, it's like I can feel the alcohol flooding through my veins. Slowly destroying what's left of my mind. It doesn't take much to stop the thoughts. But, it's the pounding that stops it first. In the back of my mind the pounding starts. It gets louder with every drink until it's all I can hear. Then they go. My thoughts. They vanish. Well, not completely. They hide. They wait until I'm vulnerable and then they strike. Driving me to the edge again and again. Each time getting closer and closer to the edge. One day I'm going to fall off. I'm going to fall off and never come back. Because they know me, they are me, and they know my each and every weakness.

But, when I do go what will be left of my pitiful life then? My bill. All that alcohol I couldn't really afford, but needed to go on. I'm not Enjolras, he will leave success and triumph, and even if he fails at that he will leave an idea, a hope, a dream of a better world. He will leave friends and loved ones. Everyone who had met him would surely feel his loss. Me especially. If he dies, I will follow. There is nothing left for me without him. I doubt even alcohol could take away that pain.

But, I have thought too much for today. Whilst still sober, I can still remember the pale skin contrasting against the bright colour of his books. And that is something I will happily forget. I don't want to think. I don't want to remember. All I really want to do, is make the pounding go away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is inaccurate, I haven't had much experience with this. Feedback welcome as always. And what do people think of adding in Enjolras' POV?


End file.
